Bachelorette
by Jenja
Summary: There was an emptiness in the pit of her stomach and she closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose, attempting in vain to clear the fog that had accumulated in her head.  She needed some air.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of its characters.**

**Authors Note: Haven't been able to get Brittana out of my head so I wrote this one night when I was out and saw a bunch of bachelorette parties.**

Santana was drunk.

Her senses were screaming. Thumping bass of a Britney Spears song blared across the bar, colored lights danced and flashed around her and she felt light as air as she seductively dipped and danced on top of the bar to the catcalls of every guy below. The plastic tiara Quinn placed atop her head at the start of the night was perched precariously on the edge of her dark hair threatening to fall any second and the drink she was holding splashed down her hand.

_How many drinks was it now?_ She stood suddenly upright, squinting at the etched tally marks across her forearm and swaying dangerously backward. _12? That couldn't be right._ Maybe she was seeing double. The blurry figures of Quinn, Rachel, Tina, Mercedes and Kurt seemed much farther away as she brought the drink to her lips. It was late enough that the alcohol didn't burn her throat anymore, so she downed it in one swift chug, bent down and clanked it on the bar victoriously. A small cheer erupted from the group of guys below her, as the short and form-fitting dress she was wearing slid dangerously up her thighs upon bending over. She glanced over her shoulder and licked her lips seductively at them, even throwing in a wink for good measure. They were practically drooling. Why not? She thought. It was one of her last nights as a single woman, and she had to do her bachelorette party right.

But as the alcohol continued to cloud her thoughts, she didn't feel right. As carefully as she could, she climbed down off the bar, grabbing the nearest burly shoulder for support. The pumps she was wearing weren't helping her maneuvering. Add in the copious amounts of alcohol and motor function became dangerous. Something was wrong. There was an emptiness in the pit of her stomach and she closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose, attempting in vain to clear the fog that had accumulated in her head. She needed some air.

She shook off the offer from Quinn to accompany her outside and settled herself on the curb between two parked cars. _Deep breaths. In and out, in and out_. After a minute or two, she felt a little calmer but something still wasn't right. She missed her best friend, who she should be sharing this night with. Who should be right next to her on the cold concrete, rubbing slow and soothing circles across her back and humming a gentle melody in her ear. She struggled to undo the clasp on her clutch and suddenly her iPhone became the most complicated thing to operate. Her fingers slipped off the screen and she couldn't even manage to enter her pin to turn the damn thing on. She huffed in frustration and shoved it back in the purse. Pushing herself up and teetering dangerously to one side, she made her way back to her friends.

The music seemed louder than ever and each bump of the bass felt like a crack on the head. She pulled Quinn away from some random guy she was up on out on the dance floor and shouted in her ear. "I have to go. Too much to drink." Quinn tried to object but it was already 1:30 in the morning and the bars were soon to close. She put Santana in a cab, made the driver promise to get her home in one piece and floated back into the club.

Santana closed her eyes gratefully as the cab lurched into motion and thought of the huge leap she was about to make. Marriage. At 19. She knew everyone thought she was rushing into it and acting irrationally but she knew this was the only thing that's felt truly right in her entire life. There were no doubts, no insecurities, and no fear. Only love.

She unclasped the straps on her heels as the cab pulled up to the curb outside the familiar house. The pavement felt cool on her bare feet as she padded up the front walk and used the spare key in the ceramic turtle in the adjacent garden to unlock the front door. The house was dark and she tiptoed up the staircase and down the hall to the last door. She paused, her head spinning, took a deep breath and slowly turned the knob to let herself in. The figure in the bed was nearly still, breathing slow and steady as Santana stared, a smile forming in the corners of her lips. She stripped out of her dress and slowly climbed into the bed. The figure shifted unconsciously and rolled over to face her, still completely asleep. Santana smoothed back the blond hair splayed across the pillow and the figure stirred, blue eyes peeking out from a furrowed brow and nearly closed eyelids.

"San….?"

Santana mumbled out a "hi" that sounded more of a sigh as she leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss on her fiancée's forehead. The lightest trail of her fingertips across a cheek and suddenly she felt whole again. She felt home.

"What are you doing here? We're not supposed to see each other tonight, remember? This is your one night away from me." Her throat sounded like it was coated with sand from sleep and her eyes had still not fully opened.

Santana simply shrugged off her question and placed a soft kiss on Brittany's lips. She exhaled deeply again and breathed into her lips, "I missed you." Simple.

"You're drunk. Like really drunk, hua? You taste disgusting. All wrong."

"Yeah. Sorry." She extended her arm and showed off her tallies, grinning mischeviously in the moonlight as Brittany smiled up at her.

"Hey."

"Mmm?"

"I love you. More than anything. You know that, right?"

Brittany nodded slowly, adoration in her eyes and a small smile on her lips. "I love _you_." She snaked her arms around Santana, causing goosebumps to appear like an emblazoned trail across her skin. _That will never get old._ Santana burrowed into the hollow of Brittany's neck and inhaled deeply. Pomegranate and the slightest trace of vanilla; that was Britt. Smiling and placing a barely-there kiss to the sensitive skin under her jaw, Santana drifted off to sleep, knowing that she will gladly lie in these arms for the rest of her life.


End file.
